My Underachieving Seatmate Doesn’t Need Any Comforting - Chapter 79

What would you do if you found yourself in the body of a woman married to a prince?What's more, he isn't just any prince—he's a beast, cursed by the moon.---Aveline, a rising actress in 2024, finds herself thrust into an unfamiliar world after a stage 'accident.' All she ever wanted was the spotlight, not a husband or a lover. But everything changes when she wakes up in the body of a woman who looks exactly like the person who caused her accident.Now, she's married to a cursed prince who's out for her blood. The only way back to her time? Make this ruthless, feared prince fall genuinely in love with her!How can someone who's never believed in love conquer the heart of a beast?Lord help her if she fails.---(Warning: MATURE CONTENT! NO RAPE!)--Welcome, dear readers, both new and old, to my latest novel! I hope you enjoy this thrilling journey with Ave and Prince Lucian. If you haven't already, be sure to check out my other books:- Wife Of The Demon Prince- Bound To The Ice Dragon King- Loving The Temperamental AdonisHappy reading!

Being raised by witches wasn't the end!It was the beginning for Menma's life as he had to deal with humans that hate the witches.And also travel across different dimensions to fight against unnatural beings that threatened his family.----------------------------------------------------Author here : if you enjoy reading a fresh unique new story, give mine a go.If you like it... perfectif you don't... tell me what i can do to improve itenjoy ;)

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”